





. t 



-^^o^ •' 













v**::rrr«* ,*«•' 



<». ♦. 






/ , ^^'\ '^Ws ^/\ •-^•- ^^-^^ 



7^* A 











•bv^ 



. o? ".ft 



"IV ^ 












o,. **Tr, •' ^0^ V '.:^o- ,# 






» • o^ O 



'* .jl:^'* -> 






V •'•** Ci, 



/J\%<?^'o V .^►'^ ♦*>3lfci*. ^Pi. ..♦ ^'l^K'o %^ 









.,♦ ,.^'% '°^^-" /\ .. 







ittftoO. 



^''^..JJi;/* *> 



o 



THE EMPTY SLEEVE 



Life and Hardships 



y 



HENEY H. MEACHAM, 



UNION ARMY. 



BY HIMSELF. 




WASHn 

SPRINGFIELD, MASS.: 
SOLD FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE AUTHOR., 



PREFACE 



Readers, in writing this book, I do not intend to 
bring before j'ou a work of ability ; but simply to de- 
scribe a few of the many scenes that I passed through 
while in the Army of the Potomac and in the hospital. 
It is true, that I did not suffer as some of our soldiers 
did ; but having lost my right arm, which excludes me 
from most kinds of work, I have taken this method of 
gaining a living. I have myself and wife to care for, 
and my wife's health being poor, makes it still harder 
for me to get along ; and thus, by writing this book, 
I hope to place myself and wife in comfortable cir- 
cumstances. With these few remarks, I throw myself 
upon the generosity of the public, thanking them for 
the kindness I have already received, and assuring 
them that I shall always be grateful for their aid in 
the support of myself and wife. 

Henry H. Meacham. 



THE EMPTY SLEEVE. 



At the breaking out of the Great Reliellion, %I 
was engaged at carriage-making in the town of 
Russell, in Massachusetts, but thought it my duty 
to enter the service in defence of my country, and 
clo vv'hat little I could to keep traitors from tramp- 
ling the good old flag under their feet. ' I went 
and was examined, but was rejected. I came back 
with downcast feelings, but was determined to try 
again. As time rolled on, and my health improved, 
I tried again for a soldier's life, but without success. 
I little knew the hardships and perils of active 
service, and thought it very pretty sport. But 
it was not the novelty of the scene that inspired 
me to go, but the love of my country. Finally, 
at my third examination, I was accepted; and my 
heart beat with joy. 

I left Springfield, the twelfth day of September, 
perhaps never to return ; and went to Long Island, 
in Boston Harbor. There I remained one week ; 
then the Transport came to take us far from our 
homes. Many were the wistful glances that were 



cast back towards our home, where were the ones 
we loved most dear ; and how we long'cd for one 
more farewell salute before we left our native 
State; but that could not be. The wind w^as 
blowing hard (it makes my brain dizz}^ to think of 
it How) ; but we had to go. We little knew but 
v/e should find a watery grave before reaching the 
scene of action; but the weather calmed, and we 
had a very pleasant voyage, and arrived at the 
front, where I was placed in Company E, Thirty- 
second Regiment, Massachusetts Volunteers, who 
were l^^ing at Culpepper, Virginia (which is al)out 
sixty miles from AVashington, and in the direction 
of Richmond). Here I first commenced my life 
in the army. We were not destined to remain 
here long; for in less than two wrecks, Lee, with 
his host of rebels, came marching onto Washing- 
ton,. Then commenced ^leade's retreat for Cen- 
treville. That was the first marching I liad done, 
and I then hoped it won id be the last, for my feet 
vvere badly blistered. My readers can judge for 
themselves how they would like to march twenty- 
three hours out of twenty-four, with their feet in 
that condition; but, thank God, we were two 
hours ahead of Lee and his army, and it saved one 
of the most bloody battles of the war ; for, had 
Lee G'ot the hei^^hts of Centreville, we should have 
been cut off from all supplies and captured, or 
obliged to cut our way through the enemj^'s lines. 
When w^e arrived at Centreville, we gave three 
cheers, which rang through the lines for miles, 



thiiikiog that we were once ahead of Lee's time. 
But many of the men that were taken sick or fell 
into the enemy's hands, died, without any one to. 
care for them, there alone, away from friends, -^ 
wife and children, father and mother, brother and 
sister, never to know what became of their hus- 
band," fiither, child, or brother. Such were the 
scenes that occurred on this march, but they were 
trivial compared to experiences that followed. 

Soon after this, came the battle of the Rappa- 
hannock Station. Though short, it left many a 
man lying cold in death; but we succeeded in 
driving the enemy back behind their entrench- 
ments at Mines Run. This was near Thanksgiv- 
ing time ; the weather was cold Ind rainy, and we 
had to wait some time before we could follow 
them. But the time came, and on we went, not 
knov/ing where we Averc going, — perhaps to our 
lonsr homes. Oh, that lono- and lonelv nii>:ht after 
we arrived there ! But in the morning, we marched 
to the right, to Robinson's Tavern, a id i stance of 
two miles. It was raining hard at the time, but 
about noon, it cleared away and Avas very cold. 
AYe remained there until the next morning, when 
we aoain commenced our advance. We had not 
far to go before we ^ came near the enemy's works. 
Here we halted and formed our lines ; and after 
waiting a few hours, received orders to be in 
readiness fo make an assault on the enemy's works 
at four o'clock. 

Hero we remained without food, for our rations 



were all gone, and we knew not when we should 
get more. We did not move until one o'clock the 
next morning, when we turn'ed out in the cold, 
and marched about a mile to the right. We ar- 
rived there long before daylight ; and there we 
had to stay, for we could not stir around to keep 
warm, as the enemy were in sight, and we should 
be likel}^ to get their shells. We were to make 
the attack at nine o'clock; but -nine o'clock came, 
and yet we did not go forward. Some of our men 
crossed Mines Eun stream, which was dammed up 
to make the water deeper ; but nearl}^ every man 
froze to death, and on this account, we did not re- 
ceive the orders, as we expected. That was a long 
day to us, being in the cold, with thin clothes 
and no food. We remained here until the shades 
of night hid us from the foe. Our hearts beat 
with joy when we were ordered to fall in, for we 
knew that we were going back, and should not 
make an assault ; but when we got to our old posi- 
tion, we wAe hungry, tired, and cold. Oh, that 
long night, with but just enough covering to keep 
as from freezing ! We were all glad when we 
could turn out in the morning, and have some 
exercise and fires. 

Another day -wore slowly away, and at night, 
we took up our line of march for the rear. As we 
turned our heads back in the direction of the en- 
emy, we could not help thinking that many more 
of us were on that march than would have been, 
if we had made the assault. It was three o'clock 



in the moruing when we crossed the Rapidan. 
We marched half a mile farther, and encamped. 
Morning dawned bright and beantiful, and it 
was late before we took np onr line of march again.' 
We felt weak and fiiint, having been two da3^s 
without any food, and no signs of getting any that 
day ; but we marched with good spirits, thinking 
our work done until the next spring. 

RAnONS, AFTER THREE DAYS' FASTING. 

As the sun was setting in the west, we arrived 
at Bealton Station, and were gladdened by the 
sight of teams with our rations. Here we halted, 
and. got ten pieces of hard bread and a small piece 
of pork. . Many poor men ate the whole at once ; 
but in these cases it made them sick, as they did 
not stop to pick out the worms, for the bread was 
very wormy ; but we must eat it, or have none. 
After getting our rations, we marched two miles, 
to Liberty ; here we went into camp, and the next 
morning formed our line of picket-guard, but not 
knowing how long w^e should remain here, did not 
build our winter-quarters for a few days. 

WINTER LIFE IN CAMP. 

Finally, we concluded to run the risk, and put 
up cabins. We then commenced, and in two days 
had what we called a good home. The cabins wer^j 
constructed of pine-logs, piled together like a log- 
house, and for the roofs we used our shelter-tents ; 



8 



thus forming our winter homes, \vhich were very 
comfortable. Wq had a fireplace and chimney, 
made of small sticks and mud. In Virginia, the 
mud makes good mortar, being mostly red clay. 
The guard-duty was every third day ; we had to 
stand two hours, and off four, rain or shine. Thus 
you may judge what it is to be broken of 3'our 
rest every third night, and perhaps be drenched 
with rain; then to ' stand all night on guard, 
with your clothes frozen stiff. This was the con- 
dition that we were in on pickct-dut}^ ; but we 
have often since looked back to those days, and 
thought what easy times we had. They were easy 
to what we had after General Grant took command 
of the armies of the United States.* For our fires, 
we had to carry our wood about half a mile, while 
the teams were lying idle. The officers had a good 
time at this place, as they seldom went on duty; 
but the private soldiers had the work to do. 

An incident occurred here, that may be worth 
relatinn^. The maior of our regiment thou2fht he 
would go out and see a, young lady by the name of 
Whitehouse. So, one da}^, he and his orderly 
started, and passed our picket-guard (as he had 
command of the lines, we could not stop him), 
to see his sweetheart (a lady he had got ac- 
quainted with some time before, I know not how). 
But he went, as many young men do; and, as he 
rode up to her gate, found, to his surprise, her 
brother there with -a strong guard. They came 
out with drawn pistols, and he, with his orderly, 



v/erc tcikcii prisoners and sent to Eichmond. We 
started in search of them, but with no success. 
The second day, we heard from them by ^vay of 
the hidy, for she came and told the colonel that 
thc}^ Avere captured. He went to Libby Prison, 
and there remained about four months.; when he 
and others made their escape. Some being retaken, 
were treated worse than before ; but the major 
returned home. Prison-life was his punishment 
for disobedience of orders. He remained at home 
a short time, and then returned to his regiment, 
v.'hich was lying near the James Elver. 

But to return to the scenes of camp-life. The. 
weather was cold, and the snow often fell to the 
depth of one foot, but did not last but one or two 
days, making the ground yer}' splashy. "We had 
to be out, let the storm be ever so hard. When 
in camp, we had nothing but our log-hufs with 
cloth roofs to keep us warm. Our camp was laid 
out in streets, one company formiug one street. 

In a short time, there was a call for .soldiers 
whose .time was nearly expired, to re-enlist, and 
get a heavy bounty and thirty days' furlough. The 
men thought more of the furlough than they did 
of the money. The Thirty-second most all re- 
enlisted, and came home as a reo-iment, briiio'iuir 
their arms with them, which but few regiments 
had the privilege of doing. But we could not all 
come home. There were one hundred and fifty of 
us that had to remain behind. The service was 
harder than before, as we had to do fatigue-duty; 



10 



besides, we built a fort at WaiTcntou Jiiiictiou.# 
But time wore slowly away until the regiment ; 
came back. We were all glad to see them. 

One of m}'' comrades was t^iken sick a few days 
after returning, and I took care of him, besides 
doing my duty on the picket-line, which made my . 
work very hard, — harder than my constitution 
would endure. After he had got better, I was 
taken sick with a fever while on the line ; I had hard 
work to get to my cabin. When I arrived there, 
I couki not sit up. The doctor was called, and he 
did what he could for me, but to no use, I had to 
go through with the fever. Our beds were con- 
structed by driving a crotched stick down at each 
corner, and then placing a pole from one to the 
other. After this, we laid small straight sticks 
across them, then spreading our rn1jl)cr blankets 
over the whole, we thus formed our beds ; we used 
our knapsacks for pillows. How long those days 
seemed, my flesh burning with fever, and the bed 
being' so hard ! But I had as good care as could 
be expected, in such a place as that. Tkere I re- 
mained four weeks, before I was- able to sit up ; 
those were the longest weeks I ever saw. I little 
thought, as I lay there, that I should ever return 
home to my family, for I was married two years 
previous. But God saw fit to spare my life, per- 
haps to aid in conquering the foe. 

It was not long after I got well before I started .- 
on the campaign of 1864, under the generalship of 
U. S> Grant. He was appointed to that position 



11 



March 9, and on the twelfth of that month, he 
took command of the whole United-States' armies. 
Then we knew that we were to do some fighting. 
But that was what we went for ; and we thought 
the quicker we commenced, the sooner we should 
be through and return home (what there was left 
of us). 

Spring came, and the season was beautiful. 
Cherry and pear trees were in blossom, then apple- 
trees took their turn. We longed to remain there, 
l)ut as the ground became settled, we heard of the 
forces beginnhig to concentrate around Brandy 
Station and Culpepper. As we were left at our 
old. place, we began to entertain hopes that we 
should remain. But we were not kept in suspense 
long ; for, on the morning of April 30, 1864, the 
bugle sounded for us to pack our knapsacks and 
be ready for the march. About noon, we bade 
farewell to the spot where had been our homes for 
the past few months, and moved on, bidding good- 
by to some of our southern friends we Avere to 
leave behind. Some of them were yevy friendly 
and kind to us. When I had nothing else to do, 
I used to make axe-handles, and helped one of our 
neighbors mend his wagon. I also repaired clocks, 
and for my pay would get milk and tobacco. So 
I had the privilege of sending my money all home 
to my family, thinking, that if I lived to return, 
it would be of use to me. But I was destined to 
disappointment, for the money was all gone before 
I returned home. 



12 



THE OAxMPAIGN OF 18G4. 



On the thirtieth of April, 1864, we marched to 
Rappahannock Station, and there camped for the 
night. In the toorning, we again set out ; bnt had 
only a short march before we arrived at Brandy 
Station, where avc again halted and remained two 
nights, the first and second days of May. While 
I was there, I called on my cousin, who was a mem- 
ber of the Thirty-seventh Regiment. While I was 
gone, the bugle sounded the advance, and I was 
obliged to run to overtake them, but did not until 
tliey halted again. At eleven o'clock, the orders 
for advance were oiven, and the whole of the c^reat 
Army of the Potomac was again in motion. We 
knew not where we were going, but at the dawn of 
day we were at the Germimia Ford. After cross- 
ing, we halted to rest. We improved the time in 
making coffee and getting our breakfast ; then we 
were ordered forward again. We took the plank-: 
road leading to Fredericksburg, and marched to 
the pike-road running by the Wilderness Tavern ; 
turning, and marching on that about hair a mile, 
we halted, placed our guard, and remained until 
morning. When we crossed the Rapidan River, 
we turned and cast a wistful glance back, for we 
thought it was the last time vre should ever cross 
it ; and so it proved. 

In the morning, the guard was called in to 
resume- their march. We did hot* know that the 
enemy were near, when a squad of cavalry came 



13 



riding up to headquarters, and the pickets were 
ordered back with a new detachment. The rest 
of the troops formed in line, and commenced 
buikling breastworks. But we had to work expe- 
dltioush^ to get them completed. We knew the 
time of action was near at hand. How we longed 
to see the loved ones at home, ere we entered the 
deathly strife. 

We had not long to wait before the crash came, 
and the battle was raging with fearful eifect.- 
What feelings of anguish were excited, of which 
none can know anything except those who have 
been there. The sound of battle is not pleasant, 
even if a person is not in danger. We remained 
a short time behind the works that we had built, 
and then moved off to the right, and across tiic 
pike-road. There we were exposed to a direct fire 
from the^encmy . There my tent-mate was Avounded 
by a minic-ball ; I was standing by his side when 
he was hit. How bad I felt, because I could not 
assist him or do anything for him ! But we were 
not allowed to stop, and we did not hear how badly 
he was wounded imtil the next day, when we heard 
it Vv^as nothing but a flesh-v.^ound. I was glad it 
was no worse f 

After crossing the road, we moved to the right 
a short distance, and then forward. The ground 
was covered with pine and shrub oaks, so it was 
almost impossible to get through. We advanced 
a short distance before we came near the enemy. 
We were in strong: force, and then commenced our 



u 



work of death. It was heart-rending to see the 
wounded, dead and dying, lie on the ground under 
our feet, and the number still increasing. That 
was a horrible place of death and destruction in 
the dense w^ilderness, with peals of musketry, like 
distant thunder, sounding from right to left. 
Sometimes it seemed the hardest on the right, 
and then in the centre ; and so on. The position 
we held was the centre, being a part of the First 
Division of the Fifth Corps, under the command of 
General Warren. But night came on at last, and 
the shades of darkness put an end to the strife for 
that day, neither party seeming to gain any advan- 
tage over the other. We again moved by the left 
to our old breastworks, and there remained during 
the night, tired and weary. We slept on our arms 
(what little sleep we had) , and in the morning, the 
combat was renewed with increased vi^or, as if 
the rebels were determined to break our lines, or 
die in the attempt. This suited us, for it weak- 
ened their forces more than ours ; but they got 
sick of it in a short time, and then our skirmish- 
ers woukl take some of the guns that lay on the 
tield and put five charges into them, and then tie 
them to trees, well-sighted at the ei*emy, and pull 
them off. Thus we passed a few hours of the da}^, 
when the battle again commenced, raging more 
fiercely than before, and lasted until late into the 
night. 

Thus ended the second da^^'s fight in the Wilder- 
ness. The loss in the Thirty-second was very 



15 



slight ; in Company E, there were only three 
AvOiinclecl. Again we slept on our arms, eager to 
commence again at dawn of day. On May 7th, 
the fighting was jiot so severe, little morQ than 
skirmishing, and we had some rest, which we 
needed very much. May 8th, there was not much 
fighting. We noticed the army in motion again, 
but we still held our lines until night, when we 
silently left our breastworks, 'never to return. 
We passed the hospital, where were two thousand 
of our wounded, some waiting to have their 
wounds dressed. What a horrible sight to be- 
hold, men mangled in every form ! The line hav- 
ing moved to the left, we. reached Spottsylvania. 
We marched to the left until we arrived at Laurel 
Hill,- v/here we were again in action, and where 
artillery wus used. The first day was occupied in 
skirmishins; and strenofthenin^: the skirmish-line. 
But as night came on, the line charged, and drove 
the enemy back, so that we could look into their 
works. We then formed our rifle-pits on the crest 
of the hills, within twenty rods of the enemy. 
We were in those rifle-pits two days, unable to 
raise our heads above tlie embankment with 
safety. It rained nearly the whole time, and we 
were drenched to the skin, and covered Avith mud. 
In the morning, after we were stationed in the 
rifle-pits, we, with the rest of the brigade, were 
ordered to charge the enemy's works, and at seven 
o'clock, the assault commenced. On we went to 
death. They reserved their fire until we were but 



16 



a few yards off, and then opened with gi-ape and 
musketry. They had such a fiank-fire on us, that 
we could not stand it, and all that returned had to 
crawl away. ^Ye lost about half our number in 
this assault ; and the next morning, we were or- 
dered to make another charge. But ^vo knew too 
Avell the strength of their lines to go vvillingly to 
sure death, and the orders were countermanded. 
But we had to rems^in in the rifle-pits forty-three 
hours, having no sleep and no chance to straighten 
our limbs. When we were relieved, we had to start 
for Spottsylvania. The night was dark and muddy ; 
the mud was half-way up to our knees, and all that 
long night (this being the third night), without 
sleep. But as the morning dawned, we arrived at 
Spottsjlyania. AYe had nothing to do until nearly 
night, so we had a chance to rest our weary limbs. 
But late in the afternoon, we had to form, and 
move to within a few rods of the court-house. 
Here we entrenched ourselves, having good rifle- 
pits and good breast-works ; so we were confident 
they could not drive us awaj'. The next morning, 
the artillery opened their deadl}^ fire on both sides. 
The sound was almost deafening ; the shells howl- 
ing through the air and over om- heads (for I lay 
between the two lines, on the picket-line). 

We were well supplied with rations, but the 
hardships were too much for us ; we daily grew 
weak and poor, and at that time, it did not seem 
that I could keep Avith them much longer. But I 
little knew then what a man can stand if obliixed to. 



17 



When wc left Spottsj'lvania, we niarclied in 
a southerly direction, crossing the Po and Tar 
Rivers, and after a long and tiresome march, wc 
arrived at the North Anna River. This we crossed 
at one of the fords, the first that we knew 
the foe Avere near ; and the orders given to make 
no noise in crossing. The banks were very steep 
on the southern side. After crossing and ascend- 
ing the hill, wc formed our lines (there was not 
more than a brigade that grossed at that time), 
and commenced our advance. We had not far to 
go before coming in. contact with the rebel pickets, 
to whom w^e paid no attention, l)ut kept steadily 
along, when they broke in utter confusion, and 
retreated back to their general lines. We advanced 
but a short distance before halting: and buildim:- 
breastworks; but we could not get them com- 
pleted before the rebels were upon us again, with 
twice our number. They halted a moment at our 
tirst volley ; but again the}^ started and pressed 
on, but to no purpose, for the incessant stream of 
tire and leaden hail was more than they could 
stand.' They succeeded in turning our right, 
which brought them in range of our artiiler}^ when 
seventeen pieces opened on them. This was more 
than they cou-ld endure, and what v/ere left lied 
back, leaving their dead and wounded in -our 
hands, with many prisoners. Their loss w^as heavy, 
while ours was very light. The next morning, 
we advanced to Nolen's Station, on the Virginia 
Central road, and commenced tearing up the track. 



18 



After we had completed this, the weather v/as rainy 
and the night dark. 

We recrossed the river, and started towards 
Kichmoud. After marching about two miles, we 
halted to draw rations, and the rations for the 
picket were left behind. The company commis- 
sary and myself were left to guard them. We re- 
mained until ten o'clock the next day, when wo 
started in pursuit of our corps, they having twelve 
hours the start. We marched nearly all night, 
and on the second morning came up to the regi- 
ment just as they were starting out on a reconnois- 
sance. I there got a pass to march in the rear, but 
to come to the res^iment that ni2:ht. Oh, how 
thankful I was to get a chance to rest my feet, for 
they were badly blistered and very sore. That 
morning, we had for breakfast fried chicken (one 
that we had captured on our march) and sweet 
potatoes. It was the best meal that I had while I 
was in the service. When we got a little rested, 
we started again in pursuit of the regiment, which 
w^e found without any difficulty. We had a good 
night's rest, but when morning came, we had to 
take the advance. We moved about two miles, 
skirmishing most of the way. Finally, we made a: 
charge, and drove' the enemy fix)m the heights. 
There we rested a few moments, and charofed 
again, but to no purpose ; we could not drive 
them away from their works. The fighting was 
very hard ; our loss was very heavy. We lost ill 
that charge some of the best men of the regiment, 



19 



and we mourned their loss as we would a brother. 
But owing to the hardness of our work that day, 
we were allowed to fall back, and rest for a few 
day-s, which we needed very much. 

At this place, General Grant rode along the 
lines. The men's cheers were almost deafening. 
Wq were then near Shady Grove Church, but in a 
short time the move commenced for Coal Harbor. 
On account of a colonel in the .Ninth Corps with- 
drawing his men before orders, we were left in a 
bad position, for the enemy were on three sides, 
and near enou£>-h for the shells to come amons^ us 
from all directions. This was a critical position. 
But as darkness overspread the field of action, we 
had stopped their advance. In the morning, our 
lines were strengthened, and were ordered to 
charge. The enemy had fortified during the 
night. The Twenty-first Pennsylvania Cavalry, 
dismounted, here joined our brigade. They were 
a grand set of men, numbering eleven hundred ; 
while our Thirty-second was now reduced to 
two hundred, and we had lost about five hun- 
dred. We formed under the enemy's musketry 
fire, after getting over our breastworks, ^hen the 
order to advance rang through the lines. On we 
went, until nearly out of breath, when we saw .the 
enemy leaving their first line of works, and retreat- 
ing behind their second ; but their artillery made 
sad havoc in our fines. When we fjot to the 
breastworks, we opened fire on them before they 
could recover from the panic. 



20 



I beheld several vacant places in ni}^ company 
when I looked ronnd. Ther§ was a man who 
fought almost by my side, who was shot, the ball 
passing through the jugular vein of the neck. He 
fell at my feet, and died in a few moments. We 
had four to bury belonging to Company E, and 
there were two mortally wounded. 

The next morning, the enemy had left, and w^e 
started for Coal Harbor. At this place, we did not 
have much fighting to do, our duty being picket in 
the Chickahominy Swamps. Here I saw where 
General McClellan's men were stationed, the trees 
being marked with name, regiment, company, and 
depth of water. I should have thought more w^ould 
have died than did, for the water w\as nearly waist- 
deep ; and there the men had to stand, when they 
might have stood a few rods in the rear, and had 
dry ground to stand on. These swamps are a 
dismal place. The river at this point is so narrow 
that you can fella tree across it, and then cross 
on the tree. It is very muddy and deep. The 
two picket-lines were friend!}-. "\Ye did not lire 
at each other, but often passed to the centre of the 
stream, and there traded colTee for tobacco and 
hard-bread for corn-meal. We tried all we could 
to get them to desert, and were often successfuk 
A good many of them got tired of the war, and 
wished it would close. I did not blame them for 
that, for their cause looked dark, and there was 
not much probability of success. Still, they 
thouo^ht we could not take Richmond.. After douvj; 



21 



picket-duty a few days, Ave were ordered to cross 
the river, and move toward White Oak Swamps, 
and destroy the bridge there. We were in sup- 
port of the cavahy, which went and did the work ; 
it took ail clay. 

We started on another flank movement towards 
the James River. It was a hard march, all day 
and part of the night, not leaving us much time to 
rest. When we arrived there, we pitched om- 
tents in a wheat-held, and commenced gathering 
wheat for bread. The guard were stationed about 
half a mile in advance of the camp, under the 
command of the major of the Twenty-first Penn- 
sylvania Cavalry. We arrived on the line after 
dark. In the morning, he ordered an advance of 
fifty rods, which brought us into the woods. We 
hurried and got our breakfast, for w^ saw that the 
major wanted to show his authority, and Ave ex- 
pected another moA^c ; and so it was, for in the 
course of an hour, ho ordered an advance of a mile 
and a half in line. The men Avere stationed five 
paces apart. The advance commenced, but we had 
•not gone more than half the distance, 'l)Gfore the 
line Avas broken^ and it Avas noon before it was 
formed again. We made some raids; I got. for 
my share tAvo iiice salt shad and a small bag of 
corn-moal. Thus Avore aAvay the day. Late in 
the afternoon, Ave returned to the old line, were 
relieved, and went to our camp for the night. The 
next morning, Ave crossed the James River. At 
Avhat point Ave landed I never knew ; our brigade 



22 



was among the first that crossed. At last, the 
lines were ordered forward, although it was four 
o'clock in the afternoon. The sun was pouring 
down its intolerable heat, and it did not seem as 
though man or beast could live. There was no air 
in motion ; but we must go, or die in the attempt. 
We marched from four o'clock until about seven 
without halting, when the doctor rode ahead of 
the column and directed a halt. The orders then 
came that we should stop five minutes every hour, 
and that every man should keep in his place who 
possibly could, for we were to be at Petersburg at 
two o'clock that night, a distance of twenty miles. 
We could, at this time, plainly hear the sound of 
the cannon. On we went, our road being lighted 
]jy the burning of the houses on the way, not one 
of which was left, for miles. At twelve o'clock, 
we halted for refreshments and rest, within two 
miles of our destination. Here the roll was called, 
and the officers were ordered to see that none fell 
out; and when we arrived at our destination, the 
roll was called again. This was what we called a 
forced march. One member of Company E (al- 
though I am sorry to say it) was in the habit of 
falling out to keep out of battles, and on this march 
he tried his luck, but was picked up by the cavalry 
provost-guard which followed in the rear. They 
marched him to the front, where he was compelled 
to fight, while we rested for a day. We then 
advanced, and passing the outer works of Peters- 
burg, beheld scenes too horrible for description. 



23 



The ground was thickly strewn with the dead and 
dying, showing what havoc had been made in their 
lines. Driven from their works, they rallied and 
tried to retake them, which they could not do. 
Their loss must have been more than ours at this 
plac3 of action. We marched oil for a short dis- 
tance, then forming our lines, awaited ordjors. In 
about an hour, they came ; and we moved into a 
wheat-fieW and charged the enemy's lines, driving 
in their pickets, and capturing the Norfolk and 
Petersburg Railroads. 

TWO KINDS OF OFFICERS. 

■ Here we lost our colonel, an officer we all loved 
for his bravery aud for his kindness to his men. 
We thought more of him than of all the rest of 
the oificei's in the regiment. He was a man beloved 
by all at home, and was wilihig to fare as his 
men did. There was a great difference between 
Colonel Prescott (for that was his liamo) and 
another Federal officer who would ride his horse 
over the men, when they got tired and exhausted 
on the march, even if they had a pass to march in 
the rear. And then, look at a certain captain who 
left us at Spottsylvauia under the pretence of being 
sick ; but the sound of the battle is what made 
him sick ; for he was a coward, in my opinion. 
He never returned to the resjiment airain. The 
next we heard of him, he was boarduig in Wash- 
ington, and then in New York State, in good 
health. 



24 



Company E was commanded by the orderly 
sergeant the most of the time. Occasionally, 
there would bo a lientenant detailed to take com- 
mand, but would soon be relieved by wounds. 
The company as well as the whole regiment suf- 
fered great loss after taking the Norfolk and 
Petcrs!)urg Riih'oad. "We were relieved aiid 
arranged for anotlier charge ; this time, to take a 
ravine running lengthwise of onr lines, that the 
enemy had possession of. We formed on the rail- 
road behind its high banks, cutting steps so that 
we could climb up ; and then the order was given 
to forward. ''Forward ! forward !" rang through 
the lines, and with deafening yells we went on. 
The ravine was cleaj-ed, and we had possession of 
it. But onr day's work was not yet done, fin* we 
immediately fn^med for another ch/irge ; tiiis time 
with fixed bayonets and for their main Avorks. 
When all was in readiness, the orders again rang 
through the lines, and we were in motion. On, 
on, we went, their shot making saddiavock in our 
lines ; but still we kept on, until the Twenty-first 
Pennsjdvania Cavahy, dismounted, ])roke, and fell 
in our rear for us to protect them. What a shame 
it was, fo", in a few moments more, the works 
Avould have been ours. The enemy had com- 
menced to retreat, and ^vere drawing away their 
artillery, when they noticed the break in our lines. 
But we rallied, and held our lines until late in the 
night ; when we were relieved, and moved off to 
the left, and stopped to rest. Fatigue, hardships, 
and sickness had worn me dovv^n, but I would not 



25 

ask to go to the hospital, for I would rather be 
with the company as long as possible. I think 
this was the eighteenth of June, 1864. . We did 
not move put of range of the enemy's fire ; and 
there was a good many wounded without being 
able to do an3'thing to. prevent the fire. I was hit 
four times during the day Avith spent-balls. This 
w^as the twentietli or the twenty-first of June, 
1864. 

SEVERE FtlGlHTING— WOUNDEP. 

We again moved to the left, and halted in the 
woods, where we remained until the afternoon of 
the twenty-second, when we were again called 
into action, the enemy having s\icceeded in break- 
ing the lines between the Second and Ninth Corps. 
We were hurrietl on to death or victory. We 
succeeded in stopping them, when we were or- 
dered to another point still farther to the left, 
where the enemy were concentrating their men for 
another, break. We moved by the left flank, which 
brought the dismounted Twenty-first Pennsylva- 
nia Cavalry ahead. The arnllery-fire here was the 
worst I had seen. The air seemed to be full of 
the deadly missiles. It was almost impossible for 
a man to stand for a moment. But through this 
fire we must pass. We started as fast .as we could 
run ;* but when we, had got into the heaviest of the 
fire, we found, to our horror, that the dismounted 
Twenty-first Pennsylvania Cavalry had become 
frightened and lain down. We could not pass 
them, and so were obliged to stand under the 



26 



awful shelling until they could be got out of the 
way. 

At this place, I lost my arm, — a place never to 
be forootten. Here Fort Hell was built.' As we 
were standing there, a shell came through one 
man, and then exploded, taking my right arm oil, 
and killing four of my comrades, making five lives 
destroyed and one wounded. I never expected 
to get home, or even off of the field, but I was 
bound to do all I could. When the shell hit me, 
it took part of my arm off, and I never saw the 
hand afterward. I was at this time one mile from 
any surgical assistance, and walked that distance, 
while the blood was fiist leaving me , notwithstand- 
ing I had bandaged the arm as tight as possible. 
Only by the assistance of kind friends did I reach 
the ambulance. The surgeon examined my arm, 
and could then do nothing more than to cord it 
again, and give me morphine. I was so weak as 
to be unable to walk or hardly stand. I got into 
the ambulance to go to the Division Hospital, 
which was seven miles distant over rough roads. 
It was eight o'clock in the evening when I arrived 
at this hospital. I had for a bed, a straw bedtick 
spread on the ground, (but no straw in it) , and no 
pillow to put under my head. I had not long to 
^viXlt before? the surgeon came along ; and, at my 
earnest request, I was taken to the amputating- 
room, and placed on the table. This is the last 
that I remember until after my arm was ampu- 
tated. After I had fully come to my senses, I was 
conducted back to my bed on the ground, and 



27 

there I remained during the night with my bloody 
clothes on. 

What a long and sleepless night, with no one 
to console or comfort me. My thougiits ran back 
to the happy days I had spent at home, and to the 
loved ones I had left behind. I never expected 
to behold them again. But morning came at 
last, and the bombardment around Petersburg 
was renewed. We could hear the firing disthictly. 
How often I thought of my poor soldier friends 
that were still remaining in the regiment on the 
morning of the twenty-second of June, 1864. 
We could only muster ninety guns ; how many 
.were wounded on that day, I never knew. At 
about ten o'colck on the day of the twentj^-third, 
one of my company came in and saw mo lying 
there with my bloody clothes on. He brought a 
pail of water, and Washed off the blood which had 
dried on very hard; he also got me some clean 
clothes ; and I felt some relieved after getting 
cleaned up, but I had no appetite to eat anything. 
All I could do was to lay there and think of home, 
and think how they would feel when they came to 
know of my misfortune, — to hear that I was 
crippled for life. These were the thoughts that 
passed through my mind, as I lay on the ground 
at the hospital. I was cared for as well as I 
could be in such a place; but it was different 
from being at home, with a dear mother or wife 
to care for one. But I was not destined to 
remain at this hospital long, for on the twenty- 
fourth, w^e were sent to City Point. I thought I 



28 



slioukl be nearer home, so I was anxious to go ; 
but when I found I must go in an army wagon, 
my heart failed mc. I had seen men with nothing 
but flesh-wounds get into the ambulances, and I in 
an army-wagon ; but this was my lot ; and I had 
to stand it, or die. The roads were very rough, 
and we were a long time in going seven miles. 
How glad I was when I got to the end of my jour- 
ney. There I met one of my company that was 
slightly wounded. He met me at the wagon, and 
helped me out, and 1 was placed in the ward w^ith 
him. The scenes at City Point are beyond de- 
scription. The dead were being carried out at all 
hours of the day, and I expected to go in a short 
time. The heat was" awfid. I remained a few 
days, and then went to Washington. The very 
thought of Gity Point is enougji to make one sick ; 
it was the worst place I ever saw ; thousands of 
men lay mangled in every form. The sight was- 
too horrible for description. When I was informed 
that I was to go to AVashington, my heart beat 
with joy, for I knew that 1 should be near my 
friends who were living there. ' While I remiined 
at City Point, I wrote to all my friends at home, 
for I never expected to come home again. We 
were treated well, and had all the comforts that 
could be expected. Never but once while at City 
Point did I have occasion to find fault vrith my 
treatment ; and then the nurse would not dress my 
arm, which was fly-blown, and the worms began 
to work into the amputation. This was more than 
horrid. I reported the nurse to the ward-master, 



29 



and for my reply was told to mind my own busi- 
ness, wliich I thought I would do by reporting him 
to the sergeant ; but the ward-master was anxious 
to buy me off, when he found that the surgeon 
belonged to my regiment. From that time, to tlie 
time I left City Point, I had good care.; and I think 
that he did all that he could to get me away, and 
was also glad when I was gone. When I was 
asked if I could walk to the -boat, my reply was 
that I could. I was told to be in readiness at ten 
o'clock. I had not attempted to walk at all ; but, 
with the aid of my comrade, I managed to get to 
the boat. I hated to part with a friend so dear as 
he had proved to me ; but we bade each other 
farewell, and parted. At about noon, the boat 
started down the river ; I was not able to sit up, 
so I couid not see the landscape down the Jam?3 
Eiver. I rested better on the boat than I had 
done since I lost my arm. We halted at Fortress 
Monroe a short time, and then moved toward the 
Potomac River ; and ascending that, w^e arrived at 
Washington between eight and nine o'clock in the 
evening of the twenty-seventh of June. 

After remaining at Washington a few moments, 
w^e crossed the river to Alexandria ; there the am- 
bulance took us and carri*ed us to Slough Barracks 
(a portion of the Third Division Hospital), a dis- 
tance of one mile. This hospital is situated about 
one mile from Alexandria, on the Orange and 
Alexandria Railroad, and also near Leesburg pike- 
road. Fort Ellsworth stands on the right, and 
Fort Lyon on the left. Thus they were strongly 



30 



fortified. It was very pleasant around this place ; 
the ground was kept neat and clean, and every- 
thintr was neat about the building and tents. We 
were treated kindly ; and as I gained strength, I 
would go to walk every morning. This, I think, 
did me more good than anything else. I sent 
word to my uncle that I was there, and they re- 
ceived the word Saturday night, and came Sun- 
day to see me. How glad I was to see them, they 
beinof the first friends I had seen since I left home. 
I beofan now to lono^ to come home. I little 
thought how tiresome it was to ride ; but the sur- 
geon knew better than to let me go. I had by 
this time become acquainted with the assistant- 
surgeon of the Third Division Hospital, Dr. 
Elliott. I thought everything of him, as a man 
and as a doctor. I was finally taken with the 
jaundice, which, but for the friendship of a young 
widow lady, would pro])ably have caused my 
death. She was very kind in bringing me every- 
thing that she thought would do me good. She 
was from Ohio, and came there in company with 
her husband. He entered the army ; and she, 
with two children, were left behind. He was 
mortally wounded at the battle of the Wilderness, 
but lived untiV he arrived at Washino:ton. He 
sent for his wife, but died a few hours before she 
reached there. I was one Aveek so sick, that my 
life was despaired of; but with good care, I began 
to improve, and it was not long before I was able 
to go round the hospital and call on my soldier 
comrades. For a morning walk, I would go 



31 



through the whole hospital, and say and do what I 
could to cheer the men tip. When I was able to 
go out, ray strength gained rapidly. Here I re- 
mained from the twenty-eighth of June until the 
twenty-sixth of August, when I was discharged. 
During the time that I remained at the hospital, I 
visited my uncle on Monson Hill, and had a good 
time and plenty of fruit. 

The kindest people I ever met in the South, 
were the Quakers. They would call and see the 
inmates of the hospital, and bring them berries ^ 
peaches, custards, and, in fact, everything that the 
men needed. I was sorry to leave the hospital, 
for I had found some friends that were friends in- 
deed. Reports were in circulation at home at the 
time, that I was wounded, and had died from the 
effects of m}^ wounds. I had written, but the letters 
did not reach my friends. On the twenty-sixth day 
of August, I bade farewell to the hospital, never 
expecting to return. But at Washington, I found 
that my papers were not made out right, and I 
must go back to get them rectified. When this 
was done, I returned to Washington, remained 
there three days, and then started for home. 
After riding all night and. until four o'clock the 
next day, 1 arrived in Hartford, Ct., where I met 
my wife, and remained there until the next morn- 
ing, when WG started for Springfield. This was 
the first day of September, 1864, having been 
away eleven months and eighteen days. I worked 
as watchm:in at the Water-shops in Springfield, 
Mass., until the spring of 1865, when I was 



32 

obliged to resign the position on iiccoimt of the 
law made by Congress, depriving me of my. pen- 
sion, if employed by the Government. 

While I was in the army, I endeavored to do my 
duty as became a soldier, always trying to do as I 
was ordered, and doing my whole duty. I was 
sorry that I could not remain with my regiment. 
I ha\ie fought and suffered for my country ; and 
thank God that the war hi^s closed, and peace once 
more reic^ns throujxh the land ; and should war 
again break out, I would willingly sacriiice my 
other arm, or life, if need be, to sustain our liberty 
and independence. 

In conclusion, I must say, that I am glad to see 
so many that are mindful of the invalid soldier, 
and appear to realize what he has sacrificed for 
their benefit as well as his own ; but, on the other 
hand, there are a large number that have made 
themselves independently rich out of this war, that 
would see the soldiers starve before they would 
lend a helping hand. I liave often had it said to 
me, "You draw a pension." My Teply is, "I do ; 
but what are fifteen dollars a month toward sup- 
porting a man and wife ? " It is something, to be 
sure. We are thankful that it is so large. We 
all feel as thouo-h the Government was doins^ all it 
could for the benefit of its soldiers that have been 
crippled in its defence. Long may the Stars and 
Stripes wave " O'er the land of the free and the 
home of the brave." 

Pbatt BBOTaPRs, Book and Job Printers, 37 Cornhill, Boston. 



H 132 82 











^-e^' 



^^"^. 



^o. 




•• o 



<i 














M'«3 










* «? ^. ^T 











i-^^ 


















^ APR 82 I '^ qv . t ' • * 'o 

N.MANCHESTER, .^« %r C *Jf}f/^^^ ^ «^ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




013 763 486 7 ^ 



